


you go to my head

by regala_electra



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regala_electra/pseuds/regala_electra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cuddly tipsy friends celebrating and enjoying inappropriate times together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you go to my head

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt for icedwhitemocha: _klaine + rachel + champagne_. Originally posted to my tumblr [here](http://regala-electra.tumblr.com/post/24710652121/icedwhitemocha-prompted-klaine-rachel-champagne). NYC roommate shenanigans. Billie Holiday song quoted & serving as the the fic title 'cause I love me some Lady Day.

It’s authentic, meaning it’s actually from France, but it’s not terribly good. Still they’re polishing off the bottle with gusto because they can. It’s a celebration after all.

Kurt takes the brunt of the drinking as he’s the only one who can be trusted. Rachel gets loopy when drunk and Blaine is infamously horny and clingy (which Kurt has learned can be beneficial as it often leads to languid making out before Blaine falls asleep wrapped around Kurt).

The first one to suggest that they pile up in Kurt and Blaine’s bed and sleep together is when the drinking needs to stop and since only Blaine and Rachel have made such suggestions in the past, Kurt has to finish off the rest of Blaine’s champagne for him if only to deflect any impending disaster.

He’s seriously doing the best job ever. His head is delightfully swimming and everything feels so fantastic.

Blaine’s already got his hand high up on Kurt’s thigh, tracing abstract patterns that Kurt can feel through his jeans. It would be more distracting if Blaine’s eyes weren’t closed and his breathing a steady rhythm puffing against Kurt’s skin. They’ll probably end the night with extreme cuddling the way Blaine’s dozing off, his head a pleasant weight on Kurt’s shoulder.

Rachel lets out an undignified snort, finishing it with a loud cackle. “It’s happening. _Finally_. I’m going to be a star.”

“Your first off-off Broadway lead role, Miss Berry. How does it feel?”

“Oh, Kurt,” she says, collapsing against Kurt’s free side, breath hot and not entirely unpleasant against his neck. “It’s going to be amazing. I only wish you could’ve joined me.”

“Alas, there was no part that called for Hummel-esque flair.” He sighs dramatically but doesn’t really mean it. He would have hated to be covered in dusty gauze every show night to play the entirely dead murderous ex-lover opposite Rachel’s cursed (but tragically beautiful) mummy. “There are others auditions and don’t worry, I’m still writing—”

“Your play definitely has a part for me, right?”

“Yes, Rachel,” Kurt says, draining his champagne flute. Rachel is a flurry of movement as she hurries to refill it, almost spilling over the brim. The bottle barely makes it on the coffee table. She snatches the glass from his hand to take a sip.

“You do have your own.”

“Mine has lip gloss on it.”

Kurt eyes the brim of his flute and sighs at Rachel’s unintended autograph. “Now _mine_ does.”

“I’ll fix it!” Blaine offers, rousing from his drowsy state.

He kisses Kurt swiftly and Kurt almost drops the glass. It’s messy and way up on the scale of _Blaine is Approaching Dangerous Levels of Reckless Floozydom_ but Kurt isn’t going to object. Falling into the kiss and adding a little force is the best course of action especially when Blaine makes that deep noise in the back of his throat as he sucks Blaine’s top lip in between his own.

Somehow the glass still hasn’t fallen but that can easily change because Kurt really, really wants to press his hands into Blaine’s shoulders and take even more control of the kiss. It’s a split second before the glass will tumble to the ground and Blaine’s shockingly a step ahead of him as he breaks away and smoothly takes the flute before Kurt lets go.

Blaine presses his bottom lip across Rachel’s lip gloss mark and then swipes the cloudy print away with his thumb. Before Kurt can ask him what the hell he’s doing, Blaine kisses him again with a loud smack.

Kurt puckers his lips and considers. “Are you and Rachel wearing the same lip balm?”

“It favors both of our complexions,” Rachel says. “It’s a gloss, actually.”

“My lips are naturally luminous so I can see how you didn’t notice.” Blaine smiles at Kurt’s expression. Kurt’s pretty sure Blaine’s going for seductive but is stuck on bright-eyed and tipsy. “It was for my audition earlier today since Rachel was wearing it for hers when she got the part, I thought I could use every bit of good luck.”

“Well. That’s not weird or—”

“I know you wear Blaine’s lucky underwear when you’re auditioning,” Rachel sing-songs.

“Blaine!”

He blinks, confused. “I didn’t tell her.”

“It’s so obvious,” Rachel says, snatching the flute from Blaine to drain off the remaining champagne. “Blaine keeps touching your hip after you get dressed and ready to go but not in a ‘we should have sex now’ way and as I am an adept study of human nature, I know you’re the ass man in the relationship—”

Kurt’s laughter bursts out short and sharp. He should work up more indignation but it would be an utter lie.

“And Blaine’s the other way around.”

“I do like dick,” Blaine says, nodding. He grabs at Kurt’s hand, staring at him worriedly. “You do have a great ass, Kurt. If you think I’ve been neglectful I am so sorry but your dick—”

“Oh my god, thank you, honey, I know, let’s put that conversation on the backburner.” Kurt covers Blaine’s mouth, which only inspires Blaine to lick at his fingers and oh, so not the time or place right now. And then Blaine waggles his eyebrows, meaning he’s just thought of a pun around the word _backburner_.

Kurt loves this man with every fiber of his being. They’re going to get married and have a two bedroom apartment without a roommate (lovely though she may be despite the fact that she’s currently testing Kurt’s not-so-infinite patience). However he is not going to be waylaid by innuendo or that dark look in Blaine’s eyes which has replaced the blatant drunken gaze of arousal.

He turns to Rachel. “You know he can’t help talking about—” he falters but taking a steadying breath, pushes onwards, “intimate matters.”

Rachel laughs loudly, leaning over Kurt to pet at Blaine’s shoulder.

Kurt reluctantly removes his hold on Blaine’s mouth as Blaine is now shooting him those baleful eyes that are so unfair. Oh god, he wants to go put on the greatest hits of Roxy Music to make that sadness go away even though there’s a part of his brain trying to remind him that seconds ago, Blaine had been shooting him sultry bedroom eyes and before that he did the eyebrow waggle of silly innuendo.

“It’s okay, Blaine. I like boys too, boys are awesome, right?” Rachel dips forward to attempt to hug Blaine one armed, spilling into Kurt’s lap. Smiling widely, she says to Kurt in what she probably thinks is a whisper, “I know your dirty secret. We share a wall. You’re the talker.”

“Oh god.”

“You know what you want! It’s perfectly healthy.”

“It’s so awesome,” Blaine agrees, shifting forwards a little to grab Rachel in a hug, meaning Kurt almost has both Rachel and Blaine crouching over his lap, quasi-hugging.

“This is why you’re going to go out there,” Rachel says gesturing to the furthest wall, which is up against another building, unseating herself as she stands up wobbling, leaving Blaine to topple over Kurt’s lap. “You, sir, you are gonna make it.”

“All of our names are going to be lit up in stars,” Blaine says, his voice muffled a bit as he rights himself, snuggling close to Kurt. He grabs Kurt’s hand to help point to the wall, which Kurt again has to keep from noting out loud _is_ pointing to just another building and not outside and certainly not to the sky. “Yours will be of course the most fashionable.”

“Of course.” Kurt slides his free hand across Blaine’s thigh pressed up close against his own. Blaine mistakes the move, throwing his leg over Kurt’s and pulling their joined hands to Blaine’s mouth, landing a solid kiss to the back of Kurt’s hand.

Rachel picks up the champagne bottle, shakes it, and frowns. “It’s empty.”

“Well,” Kurt says, his voice a little strangled because Blaine’s mouthing over his wrist, his lips a sweet drag that seem to be setting every nerve ending _on fire_ , “that was the point.”

“But we need to celebrate.”

“I thought we already had?” Kurt barely has seconds to spare in coherent thought because the moment Blaine gets to that spot on his—fuck. Oh well, that’s it for decency. The bedroom is now an absolute must.

Rachel disappears for a moment, which is awesome but only a small aspect of what needs to happen. He and Blaine have to take this someplace private but that seems a little too complicated, especially now as Kurt’s free hand is on a mission towards the inseam of Blaine’s pants. It’s familiar territory but it’s always an incredible journey.

Blaine’s hips roll forward and Kurt’s _everything_ is buzzing warmly, down to his bones, but then he hears Rachel delightedly announce her return with, “I have Marshmallow Vodka!”

Blaine’s mouth, which had been unmaking Kurt suddenly vacates in a happy noise of surprise.

Kurt can’t even feel shame at how deeply he groans.

This calls for desperate measures. “Rachel Berry I have hidden a bottle of champagne so we could have an al fresco brunch in the park, complete with mimosas.”

Rachel’s eyes are very wide as she clutches the bottle of vodka to her chest. “That’s going to be amazing and the weather’s supposed to be perfect. What dress do you think I should wear tomorrow?”

Kurt curses internally. Getting free reign to give out fashion advice is still his downfall. “The new strawberry print we got for a steal at—” but whatever advice he has left vanishes when Blaine shifts and his hand involuntarily settles over Blaine, warm and heavy beneath his palm.

“You guys are totally gonna do it on the couch!”

It says something at how awesome Kurt and Blaine are at being discreet that Rachel thinks they haven’t already.

Rachel raises her shoulders, affecting a lofty posture, slightly ruined with the vodka bottle she is now cradling like a baby. “I shall leave you gentlemen to your evening.” Then she frowns. “Are there any condoms here? Do you need me to get you some? I can get it from your bedroom—”

“Thanks Rachel, you’re so considerate—”

“Oh my god, no, Rachel, why would you—”

Kurt closes his eyes and with great effort stands up, which involves a quick bit of shifting that he hopes Rachel is not paying attention to, because he doesn’t want any commentary on the current state of his dick.

“I am going to bed. Open invite.” Then he realizes who he’s talking to and hastily adds, “ _Blaine_. Let’s go.”

Blaine beams. “You are the most romantic, best person in the whole world.” He happily takes Kurt’s offered hand and leans up against him. “I am going to make out all over you face, Kurt Hummel.”

“ _I’m_ going to go make vegan Jell-O shots,” Rachel says.

Kurt’s not entirely sure that’s possible but he’s more than eager to take up Blaine’s offer. As they walk into the bedroom (fine, they stumble every other step, but it’s not a very far walk), Kurt sucks a kiss against the thin skin of Blaine’s throat, enjoying the feel of Blaine’s pulse against his lips.

Blaine’s humming a little and as they start removing each other’s clothes. Kurt hears the faint snippet of a line, “ _And I find you spinning ‘round in my brain..._ ”

“You’ve certainly got more than a ghost of a chance, Blaine.”

“It’s why loving you is so awesome,” he says, his cheeks flushed.

“I know the feeling.”


End file.
